Bombing Of Britain
by Taggedy
Summary: Cue Epic Failure Of Summary- America pops over to visit his brother during WWII times, and its been a while. Safe to say his guests show Alfred that the war he thought trivial wasnt quite. Contains FACE family, FRUK and hints at others. Oneshot no more.
1. Chapter 1

America found himself with nothing to do, the date was the 6th of September 1940, and with most of the other nations involved in the second world war while he himself remained neutral he had nothing much to do. Deciding that war was no good reason for him not to visit his neighbour and brother Mathew, Canada, he stood and reached for his bomber jacket. It wasn't too late and he only hoped that Mathew was home and not in some meeting with the Allies. He chuckled to himself at the thought of said meeting. France and England would probably be arguing like usual, China offering out free sweets that no one really wanted, while Russia would probably sit calmly smiling at the commotion surrounding him and poor Mathew would probably be trying to intervene between his parent figures as they fought. He found himself in the chilly climates of Canada and he shivered and the thought that he hadn't visited Mathews homes for many years occurred to him, hell he hadn't seen him or many of the other nations since this whole war began, the thought of him not seeing Mattie in so long made him feel slightly nostalgic, thinking of their days as children under the care of Arthur and he vowed to himself he would visit his brother more frequently from now on. Alfred stood before his brothers door, the lounges light shined into the evening air alerted him to the fact his brother was home.

He knocked loudly on the door and the muttering voices he had heard as he approached silenced, there was a shuffling and the door suddenly flew open to reveal a wary Mathew. Upon identifying his brother as he was engulfed in a massive bear hug he let out a sigh of relief and pushed away. Alfred looked at him fully for the first time, noticing his hand pushing a shotgun back into its holster beneath his jacket. Mathews face had a tired quality to it, as though he had missed weeks of sleep, his hair a bit more limp than usual and the gentle smile missing from his face.

'Why are you here Alfred?' the lilac eyed nation asked, not moving to let him in.

'Aww come on Matt let me in, it's freezing out here!' Alfred whined in way of response.

'I don't think that's such a good idea.' Mathew said quietly, Alfred who'd had enough of his brothers evasiveness pushed his way past.

'Come on, this isn't because I'm neutral is it?' he asked, starting towards the lounge, Mathew had his hand raised in motion to stop his progress only to be ignored.

'Alfred no…' the rest of his protest was cut off by Alfred opening the door only to come face to face to two Nazi soldiers with pistols in his face.

'Non, Non, stop this, it is only America, he is neutral? He has probably come to see his brother!' a panicked French voice explained frantically from behind said soldiers who gave him a once over and stepped back, glancing coldly towards Francis with their ice filled cerulean eyes.

'Even so, we shall inform the boss.' One of the men informed them, the other moving to Mathew's phone. Mathew himself had just re-entered the room.

'I'm sorry, I tried to keep him out, I didn't even know he was coming, I haven't got you into trouble have I?' the usually timid nation asked.

'Non, it is fine Mathew, some things are out of your control after all. Alfred, it has been a while oui?' Alfred noticed the lack of endearments in Frances dialogue as he spoke and he looked at the older nation, he looked rough, his usually shiny hair much limper than Mattie's, his clothes much too simple for the usually flamboyant nations usual clothes and he seemed to favouring his left hand as he lifted his glass to drink his wine.

'Woah France what's up with you? You look totally trashed, and what's with Germany's men being here?' Alfred also noticed the cold glare sent his way by his younger brother, Francis laughed coldly at this.

'Ah don't tell me that you haven't been keeping any tabs on this war mon ami?' Alfred shook his head and the blond Frenchman sighed in return.

'My country was invaded by Germany and his men, I am under their arrest and control' he informed him in a tone lacking any of the expected emotion. 'this is the first time I have been allowed out of Paris without Germany or one of the other Axis, for some reason I was permitted to come and visit mon cher Mathew' at the dangerous shuffling of the single soldier still in the room, the other still on the phone, Francis hastily added 'it would best if we dropped such subjects, they depress me and this is a rare occasion to see the two of you' the country of love attempted one of his usual grins as the soldier from the phone reappeared a grin on his face. In the silence of the room, a few of the muttered words where heard throughout the room.

'flames… capture… bombing…pleased' Alfred took note that Mathews face had paled and that Francis had set down his glass due his hands shaking more. Before Alfred could catch himself a quite 'who?' slipped from his tongue, the other two nations visibly stiffened upon hearing him. The soldiers grin widened and Alfred felt ill.

'Soon Britain will return to their rightful place at Germanys side, that's why you where both allowed to come here today.' Francis looked furious, his fist tightening around the glass in his hand, America began to think that maybe the war was much more serious than he had thought.

'Is that why he almost insisted I came to see Mathew? To keep watch on him!' and France looked as though he was going to lash out, put Mathew leant across and placed a placating hand on his arm.

'So what does that mean? What's happened to Iggy?' the room remained in a stony silence at the Americans question.

It had been well over an hour since the conversation of England had been dropped, Mathew and Francis had been in light conversation, despite the normality of the situation (if the presence of the Nazi soldiers was ignored), Alfred sat in relative silence, broken only to add a point to the conversation every so often. His thoughts where surrounding the thoughts of this war, and how perhaps he'd been to quick to pass it off as something trivial. The quiet murmurs of the two French speaking nations were suddenly drowned out by a violent hammering on the front door. Mathew flew up in shock, looking to his two guests in confusion before leaving to answer the door. Mathews panicked whispers could be hear from the hall and one of the soldiers made towards the door. Neither of the seated nations could see past the Nazis large frame, so when the door slammed open they didn't know what was happening until the gunshot rang out and the soldier hit the floor dead to reveal a dangerous Englishman with his gun cocked. The other soldier made for the door that lead to the other hall and ultimately the phone was soon floored like his comrade by three lethally placed shots from the Briton. Said man stumbled into the room, kicking the corpse on his way past, Alfred took in his former care takers appearance. He was unusually dressed down, in simple black slacks which where muddied and a dirtied white shirt, a gun holster around his shoulders, the hand that was clutched around his side was surrounded by rapidly blossoming crimson. Arthur's eyes searched the room wildly, the grip on his gun not slackening, Mathews hand on his shoulder placating.

'Didn't know anyone else was here' he mumbled in a pained tone 'I didn't know you where allowed out of Paris frog.' Francis rose at this point to help Mat lead Arthur to the sofa.

'Mon cher l'Angleterre, it was a ploy to watch Mathew. Alfred merely came to visit his brother.' These words evidently calmed the brit as he replaced the gun into its holster. Mathew left the room quickly mumbling something about bandages.

'You alright Iggy?' Alfred asked, evidently over his shock, England merely glared.

'Just peachy.' He growled in reply, France knelt down in front of his usual rival, taking his face into his hands gently, being sure to avoid the painful gash under his right eye.

'What 'as happened Arthur' the Englishman looked back, emerald eyes sharpening in anger to shards of glass.

'Fucking kraut bastard, how fucking dare he!' he replied his voice darkening and getting louder as he continued. 'the bastard has been trying to seduce me to his side for a dam while, telling me how I'm like him, my people are part of the superior Aryan race, and how the world has tainted me, how he could help purify me when I return to my rightful place at his side' he hissed, at this pint Mathew returned to the room arms laden with bandages and a first aid kit, the big browed nation waved him off.

'leave it lad, there's no point I didn't come here for that, I came to ask you something' as he rose away from the other two towards an aghast looking Mathew, Alfred noticed how the back of his shirt was almost drenched in sickly red. Mathew of course pushed him back down.

' I wont listen until your at least bandaged up' Arthur stared for a minute before smiling a pained smile.

'So stubborn' he chuckled 'but I don't have all that long, Prussia saw me leave, he's obliged to tell Ludwig when he lands, git' France began to taken away his pistols.

'I was worried about you mon cher' he admitted as he placed the pistols on the coffee table and pushing America back into his seat as he rose to help. 'You just stay put'

''m glad to see your okay Francis' the brit admitted face turned to the side a light pink to his cheeks at the admission. Mathew peeled away his drenched shirt to reveal many lacerations and burns varying from size and depth, the worst seemed to be surrounding the hart area, more wounds where still appearing.

'Jus' bind 'em up and get me some whisky or somethin' for the pain' Arthur's brows where furrowed in pain. 'Dam bastard, bombing my beautiful London, I promised I wouldn't let London burn again, now look at it.' He grumbled. Alfred watched as his brother was wiping away the blood from Arthur's back, under all the blood more, older scars where revealed and for the first time Alfred realised that due to his age Arthur must have been through so much, so many wars, so many of his peoples dying.

'I didn't think it was this bad' he whispered into the silence in the room. Francis face turned melancholic as he sat before the injured Englishman, his hands gripping his forearms to prevent the messy haired brit punching the American. Arthur looked as though he was about to produce a biting remark but his face suddenly paled, his eyebrows drawn together in pain and he started to shiver.

'They aren't finished.' He bit out before keeling over into a violent coughing fit.

'Arthur!' Mathew called rushing to kneel beside his French father. America shuffled over to attempt to help alleviate his ex-guardians suffering, the hand that made to pat Arthur's back was intercepted by the French mans surprisingly strong grip.

'You can't help America, it would compromise your neutrality' he bit out bitterly. The coughing subsided to a point where Arthur could sit up proper again; he removed his hands from cupping his mouth and wiped them on the shirt he'd replaced on his shoulders, the wiping of his hands left trails of red.

'Forget that… Mathew… Could you do something for me' the emerald eyed nations speech was interrupted every so often by another cough or grimace of pain, Alfred noticed that he still shook from imaginary cold or danger and at some point tears had began to trail silently down his cheeks, he truly believed that Arthur hadn't even noticed them falling, the proud nation would never cry in front of someone. Mathew moved to take England's bloody hands in his own.

'Anything dad.' Arthur's face softened before he grimaced again in pain.

'I need you to hide and protect my boss for me.'

'I can hide the both of you, Churchill and you will be safe here' Arthur shook his head

'Germany will find me, and perhaps he will keep me confined,… for a short while, but during this time I will have him distracted… enough for Churchill to get here… to be hidden.' France was shaking his head looking absolutely livid with the idea.

'You cannot give in, you must keep fighting.' Arthur turned to smile at him, his eyes that glass sharp again, he cupped Frances chin gently, Alfred felt ignored as he wasn't involved in much of the exchange, and he felt alone.

'I said he would… capture me, not that I … would stop fighting… anyway you know as well as me… I would never abandon my people… and they are already…trapped. I can feel his… soldiers in my sky's… and his ships in my … beautiful Liverpool and Dover.' Arthur leant forward towards the two French speaking nations and for a moment Alfred thought he was going to kiss them, only to be proved partially wrong as he grabbed the open bottle of wine on table and on withdrawing back to his seat he laid a kiss on each of their foreheads.

'Would you… please Mathew?' Said nation had begun to cry, but nodded his head in admission. Arthur managed a smile.

'Thank you...' he then began to drink straight from the bottle of wine, Alfred made a small sound of protest and moved to take it from him.

'Stop it… America… It hurts like a bitch… Kraut bastard should be here soon… too dark to bomb now.' All nations looked to the closed curtains as if they could see the blackened sky through them.

'Arthur, mon amour, promise me you will not give in to him.' France, Alfred noticed, had yet to let go of Arthur's arm, as though he was afraid he would disappear, or be taken away, a possibility that was more than likely.

'As if… bombed and broken my glorious country… will not fall to some child… who has spat his dummy out' he laughed causing the onset of more coughing.

'Iggy… why are you crying?' the previously silent America asked, if only to break the silence. Surprisingly he didn't get angry with the question, opting to take a larger gulp of the wine, and Alfred couldn't help but think that in another setting France would be complaining about how he should be savouring the taste, not drinking it down like cheap rum, it pained him to think of the two older nations being in a situation where they didn't act themselves, he remembered his and Mathews childhood years, where both nations where always there arguing most of the time, but bringing them up non the less, and within all that there was the moments of calm where both would be almost loving. He remembered times where the four of them would curl up on the sofa whilst Arthur read some fairytale aloud, or when France tried to teach them to cook making sure that England was only allowed to watch, putting at the kitchen table or even the times in thunderstorms where he and Mathew where scared and would crawl into their parent figures bed and they'd huddle together and wait out the storm.

'My people are mourning, they are afraid, they are angry' Arthur's reply cut in on Alfred's recollections. Before he could continue what promised to be an angry speech a loud thunderous knock shook the door. Mathew jumped up with a squeak of surprise looking to Arthur afraid; Arthur remained unfazed as he too rose to his feet.

'You should get that.' Mathew threw his arms around the smaller male before making towards the door. Arthur turned to walk towards the window only to stop before the previously ignored American.

'Don't do anything stupid Alfred; this is not your war.' Before Alfred could even mutter a reply Arthur's lips touched his head much like they had Mathews and Francis's before him.

'You too frog, keep them out of trouble' and even Alfred could read the threat behind the words. The doors to the living room opened to reveal the stoic form of Germany, an icy smirk on his face.

'England, I was so worried.' Said brit was across the room so quick that America barely caught the scene of the smaller man punching Ludwig in the face, and what a punch it was to cause Ludwig to stumble, especially with the brits rapidly weakening form.

'You Bastard!' he hissed repeating it again, and again like a mantra. 'You Bastard!' the Nazi nation just stood there simply wiping at a trickle of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth, ice shard eyes took in the room. He tutted.

'What happened here then?' Arthur laughed

'I killed them you bastard, the sunnova' bitches didn't even know what hit them'

'Ah, I see, you truly are very skilled Arthur.' Alfred observed the nation, he could see that he was different, more dangerous, he was twisted by this new boss of his, he could see the insanity in the depths of cerulean eyes.

'Don't you fucking dare! Talk to me like that, after what you've done to my people!" another fist was aimed for the Germans face, this time intercepted by said German who held the wrist in his grasp, catching the second when it flew instinctively. He shoved the petite nation back towards the wall, the collision causing pictures to fall down, photographs, Alfred idly noted as he rose from his seat, family photographs. Mathew was suddenly there beside him, France pushing both of them back and away. He looked detached as he did so, torn.

'Lemme' go France, he's hurting England'

'Non, you are neutral, you can't jeopardize the decision of your boss and people.' France informed him coldly, like he was repeating rehearsed lines of a play. 'Arthur does not want 'is family hurt.' It was Ludwig's enraged cry that drew the attention away from the argument, Arthur had been dropped to the floor and was smirking as he wiped his bloody lips on the back of his sleeves.

'How dare you! Spitting blood in my face! See what you have become! Tainted by the world my England'

'It doesn't matter if my blood is on your face, because it already stains your hands! I am not yours nor your brothers, so you will do well to stop referring to me as such bastard.'

'You forced my hand Arthur, and I will do it again if I must. Come along we're leaving.' At the sign of another violent protest he added 'or perhaps you need persuasion ' the German gave a meaningful look to the other three nations in the room, Arthur's stare followed.

'I fucking hate you! You will not get away with this!' the Germans smirk widened at the submission.

'Don't worry your pretty little head my dear, we'll fix you soon enough.' The brit kicked at him half heartedly as his forearms where tied together. He was lifted to his feet by the taller nation, a hand placed on his hip to steady and lead him out. Alfred wasn't sure who made which sounds of protest but he was pretty sure France had growled, Mathew had stopped himself from shouting out and he himself had made some noise of discontent at the contact.

'Will I be coming too Mr. Germany'

'Of course not' the other nation ground out at the Frenchman's question, grip tightening on the Englishman who looked about ready to pass out. 'Japan will be here shortly to escort you' he began to walk again at that, Arthur looked towards them again, determination set in his eyes.

'Be safe, I'll see you soon' and with that they where simply gone. France waiting until he heard the sound of tires before releasing the to nations who could have easily broken out of his hold, but hadn't in fear of harming the elder nation. The older nation himself punched the wall nearest to him as the two young turned to him angrily.

'I promised 'imp' he explained simply 'that you two wouldn't get involved.' Mathew turned to leave the room with the excuse of phone calls for preparations, but even Alfred who couldn't read the mood could tell he only wanted to be alone. France rose to hug him, knowing that his former charge couldn't deal with seeing another parent being taken from him.

'I will let myself out, do not worry' Mathews pale face nodded and he left. France collapsed back into his seat after fishing out another bottle of wine from Mathew's cupboard, wordlessly pouring Alfred a glass as well.

'I thought Arthur wouldn't care about my neutrality' the spectacle wearing nation admitted aloud, the French nation laughed coldly in response.

'Arthur is very noble, non? He would never want help out of some forced and twisted obligation' Alfred decided to drop the subject.

'How come he didn't take you with them?'

'Because, Alfred, Germany and Prussia want England at their side, 'e is a very valuable ally and the perfect example of Aryan they want, amongst other things. I on the other hand, like most of the rest of the world, are only wanted at their feet.'

The pair drank the rest of the night in stony silence.

My first story for Hetalia and BL. Hope It was Okay :)

Notes -  
'Spat his dummy out' - saying means basically to have a childlike tantrum.

Englands weak physically at this time because quite frankly why wouldn't he be? there are still bombed out buildings around the country today from the bombings.

Englands shooting precision - apparently English soldiers where taught to fire 15 accurate shots per minute.

Churchill hid out in Canada for a time during the war

Prussia would have to wait until Germany landed to tell him because planes back then where really simplistic.

This Story Probably Isnt All That Historically Accurate, Ill Just Put That Out There~

Hope You've Enjoyed Anyways  
X)


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred had made a promise to visit Matthew more often after leaving that night, its one of the thoughts that had stayed vivid in his otherwise lucid mind. It had been, to say the least, a relief when hid boss had informed him they where sending England supplies. It may not be entering the fray himself, an idea he found himself and his people warming up to, but it would help with the damage. He himself hadn't seen the bombed cities but Matthews face when the subject was broached wasn't reassuring, nor where the acidic words of 'this is not your war' or 'your neutral in all this'. He supposed things in Europe must be getting pretty bad. After this revelation (boy was he a genius) he decided to be more subtle when fishing for information, after all it had been a while since he had seen a genuinely happy smile on his brothers face. It had been a while since Matthew had been visited by anyone other than him, although he wasn't alone. After all Churchill was staying with him, an unnecessary measure but Alfred knew his brother intended to keep his promise to Arthur, word for word. Whenever he visited the man would greet him pleasantly before finishing what he was doing, then leave the two brothers in privacy. Matthew had confessed that the man was restless, jumping whenever the phone rang. He was waiting for news. Alfred didn't have to ask what news as he knew that no one had seen Arthur since he was dragged over a month ago.

Today was no different, Alfred had arrived back from sending off some supplies and after a hurried dinner, left to visit Mattie in the chill of the October air. His knocking on the door went unanswered, so (being the hero) he decided to risk the wrath of Matthew and let himself in. The living room was deserted, which in itself was strange as either Matthew or Arthur's boss would be lounging about, it was quite save from the murmur of voices elsewhere in the house, on the phone then, he surmised. He knew from his former caretakers old ways that the English found it rude to answer someone else's door. The quietness was eerie, but he didn't want to go further in at the risk of being accused of listening in (Matthew really would kill him). His decision, however, is made for him when Matthew himself appears at the top of the stairs, arms full of bloodied bandages, apparently he hadn't noticed Alfred yet, a he was grumbling to himself with a fond smile on his face. Apparently his presence wasn't completely unnoticed.  
'AI..? How..Never mind you can help me find more bandages.' so Alfred, wisely, decided to follow his brother without comment. When they reached the kitchen, however, his curiosity won out.  
'why are you so happy? Its been, like, forever since I've seen you smile.' the question was blurted out, and by the way Matthews brow was cocked when he turned to look at him, it was obvious he knew this too.  
'he's back.' at the Americans confused look he continued 'Arthur turned up about three o'clock this morning' Alfred dropped the bandages that Matthew had loaded into his arms.  
'For real?' despite everything he couldn't hide his joy at the return of his former mentor. Matthew nodded, Alfred swooped up all the bandages he had dropped into one arm and grabbed his brother with the other.

As they passed Churchill on the phone for the second time Alfred turned to his twin.  
'Umm... Matt..' he didn t need to finish his sentence as his brother pointed to the dark heavy set wooden door at the end. As Alfred made to burst in, Matthew stopped him.  
'Don't Al...' but he was waved off as his neutral twin threw the door open, only to come face to face with a cocked pistol and acidic green eyes, glowing in the darkness of the room. There was a moment of tense silence before Arthur slowly placed the gun back down beside him, muttering about how Alfred was a git. This gave said git the opportunity to look at Arthur properly without the risk of having his head shot off.  
'You look awful.' Arthur's head shot up from his mumbling and glared. His hand gravitated to his shirt, as if to assure it was still fastened, a move that made Alfred wonder what the damage underneath was. The paleness of his skin set off the stark contrast between the red of a rather vicious cut and the black of the shadows beneath his eyes. From where he stood he could also see the start of another mark just below his ear, and the strangeness of his posture. He felt sick at the implications.  
'Do shut up.' Alfred tried to ignore the coarse quality of hid voice as he followed Matthew further into the room. He pulled a chair from the desk within the room and watched as Matthew attempted to approach the wounded man. As Arthur opened his mouth, to protest no doubt, Matthew intervened.  
'you where telling me you had seen Francis.' Alfred thought it was funny the way the Canadian could get Arthur to be complacent with a few words, suck up. Arthur himself looked torn between pushing the lad away with venomous words or letting him do as he wished and give him comfort in the safety of his other parental figure. Apparently the comforting won out as the English mans only response to Matthew unbuttoning his shirt was to shrink back, seemingly unconsciously.  
'Ah yes well, I saw Francis about a fortnight ago. Some party or other, a chance to show off the spoils they've gained from this war I expect. Anyway he was with his boss, not too happy with it by looks of it, but he looked well. As well as anyone can be in this damned war anyway, he'll be fine...' he trailed off as Matthew attempted to take the shirt off, he held it tightly closed in some mockery of modesty.  
'I can bandage myself lad. I took 'em off myself after all.' Matthew frowned.  
'I'm helping, I wont stand by and let you struggle like this just because your so stubborn.' Arthur chuckled lowly at the response.  
'I don't want you to see. Either of you.' At this he looked at each of them pointedly. Alfred turned on the lamp on the desk behind him before grinning at the English nation.  
'C'mon Iggy don t be so stubborn, you know Mattie will use his puppy eyes and you've never been able to say no to them.' Arthur tsked but let the shirt fall open, but firmly upon his shoulders.  
'you do know bandages will just be soiled again later.' Matthew didn't reply, too busy taking in the expansion of the Brits marred chest. Alfred didn't doubt that his brothers breathe had been taken away, like his own had. The burns, slashes and bruises made a macabre portrait on his skin, only worsened by the older scars that created a intricate spider web within the chaos of colour, the different textures of each scar was morbidly fascinating. 'this is why I didn't want you to see.' he moved to pull the shirt front closed on only to be stopped by Alfred grabbing his wrist.  
'it's easy to forget how much history you've lived through old man.' he said 'don't get huffy about it.' there was a grimace on Arthur s face as he pulled at his wrist that was in the Americans stronghold. Alfred let go, but before he could question Arthur continued.  
'That's because its not something the younger nations need to know.' he lifted his hands up, pulling the shirt sleeves above his elbow and looking at the hand shaped bruises circling his wrists, eyes far away as he muttered. 'some thing have been agreed to be kept away from you all. And for good reason.' the room stilled and both brothers looked eager to question the apparent secrets. Arthur shook his head violently.  
'Ignore me, old mans ramblings.' the tone quashed all questions.  
'What happened Arthur. While you where gone, what happened?' at the Canadian nations whispered question the Brits fists tightened.  
'this and that.' the attempt at sounding airy failed as he took the cloth that Matthew had began to wipe at the bloody wounds gently. Arthur's cleaning was much more violent, taking no care as he scrubbed away.  
'I'd much prefer a shower.'  
'well there's too much risk that they'll start bombing again.' Arthur tutted.  
'I don't need supervision. The bombs. I'm used to them by now... back when I turned up here I was just shocked. I'm much more prepared now.' he paused at a particularly large wound at his right side, it looked like a knife had been taken to it, slicing purposefully away.  
'I told him you know.' the words where quiet as they where spoken, a dark tone they hadn't heard before 'I told him I d kill myself before I wore his mark, that others had tried to make me one with them and they'd failed.' he looked up making eye contact with them both. 'funny bloke he is tried it, carved his fucking swastika into my skin.' the twins looked to the savaged skin, able to conclude what the emerald eyed man had done to remove said mark. 'he sounds like bloody Russia. Every day, become one with me. We'll rule the world together.' he abruptly stood throwing the cloth down, his mouth audibly shutting, as though he had caught himself.  
'you lads should probably go get something to eat or something' the smile that was supposed to be warm and comforting came out bitter and broken on his lips, his voice much softer. Alfred frowned.  
'Dude, your not even bandaged up again, leaving you alone would be so unheroic' Arthur waved off the concern carelessly.  
'No point. You lads go sort yourselves out with something to eat?' he began to fasten the shirt up. Alfred was hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. He was wearing the same as he had when he had been taken by Germany, be the shirt and pants cleaner and larger, probably being Matthews. He looked much smaller and less imposing than he usually did.  
'you used to be so big'  
He literally shook his head, Germany couldn't kill Arthur, he was too stubborn! Coming back to reality he took in the way Mattie was kneeling before England, in a morbid parallel to the way Francis had all those weeks ago, the American didn't like it, he felt the need to break the chain of these events that led to crimson rivers staining white and clear tears that cleared nothing. Arthur put a hand on the back of his twins head in a hug, but staring at Alfred he made the message clear, hell the dimmest of creatures would understand the implications of the stare sent his way and America was pretty dam smart, if he did say so himself. So he got up and took Matthews arm.  
'C'mon Matt, you can make us some of your awesome pancakes.' the lilac eyed lad looked torn.  
'Go on, I'll just be sitting here, I might try and catch up on sleep. Don't worry so much.' America laughed obtusely at this.  
'Yeah, no idea where he gets that from eh Iggy.' with that he dragged his brother out, neither noticing the lack of flustered response.

Alfred was sat on the counter beside the hob as Matthew cooked, his legs swinging back and forth.  
'So you guys are going to get Francis back?' Matthew looked up with a smile.  
'I'm hoping to see him properly before they both go back to London.' Alfred looked confused.  
'But isn't England being bombed all over right now?' a sharp look was his reply.  
'do you really think Arthur would stay away? I practically had to tie him down to keep him here. In fact I think he's only here to get Francis so he can sort out his government.' the ocean eyed American quirked a brow.  
'France and some of the others have government's set up over at England's place. In exile of course.'  
'So he's really the only one fighting Germany right now?' Matthew glared.  
'The common wealth and I are helping where we can but Arthur is taking the brunt of it.' before his brother could retort the usually docile lad thrust the plate of pancakes at him.  
'Do you think Iggy will let us bandage him when we get back?' Mattie shrugged non committally, eating his own food while waiting for the kettle on the stove to boil.

By the time they return to the bedroom the acrid scent of tobacco is heavy in the air. Its source is held in the hands of a crouching Brit, who's arms are balanced on bent knees, breathing shallow and crimson rivers flowing freely from unnatural wounds. The shirt he had been wearing is on the floor beneath him, a pathetic attempt at stopping the wooden floors being stained. This opinion, however, is kept within his head as he and Matthew stand at the doorway listening to Arthur absently mumble a familiar song to himself.  
'..Britannia rule the waves, Britain s never never never shall be slaves.'  
they take in the wounds on Arthur's back. They can see now why he wouldn't remove his shirt for them to see, there are more scars here than on his chest. Emerald eyes peek over a reddened shoulder, cigarette perched on cracked lips. He smiles humourlessly, painfully, before signalling for the two to join him. Alfred knows better than to try approaching from his last visit, he couldn't compromise his neutrality despite how his hands itch to help restlessly. Matthew tried to approach, but there was no chaos this time, no dead Nazi;s at their feet and no promise of Germany turning up, Arthur therefore easily stuck to his guns and shooed the lilac eyed nation to sit. As they do Arthur wipes at his eyes with little patience, to clear the paradoxical combination of liquids there, blood and tears mixing to make a oxymoron of symbolism. He nubs out the fag in his hand with his fingertips, placing the remainder in his pocket for safe keeping. They all sit on the floor, face to face with Arthur who has stopped humming old navy songs.  
'Bad isn't.. it?' his voice is as hoarse as it was last time, but is less broken with coughs.  
'Its not too bad... the blood just makes it look worse than it is I think.' the Englishman laughs at this, its loud and robust but there s a detectable hint of hysteria there that hasn t quite been hidden beneath its faux exterior.  
'you don't need to lie.. Churchill told me. The English need to be... told straight, no use lying about it.' the twins are taken aback, they cant understand how he denies the comfort of these half truths, they know he'll pull through all right, he's far too stubborn to be taken down. But they worry about how injured he'll be by the end, how much suffering he'll have to endure and how many more scars he'll bare. Its something they hadn't considered before, they're from the younger generation of nations and while they bare scars themselves they're still shocked to see the collection an empire holds. There's a sinking feeling that if they looked at another empires skin it wouldn't be as marred. Britain has the biggest empire the world has ever seen after all, and the way he explains it to them, through coughs, its evident that more scars come from that. What England, who's tongue is loosened immensely by the bombs doesn't reveal is the circumstances of Rome's death. Not that he will die, but still, there's no need to plant that worry in their heads, after all it is a forbidden topic, one that nations had agreed to keep away from the young ones. A silence falls between them, and Arthur finds it easy to keep his thoughts away from murderous intent while his 'children' are near.

As the blonde pair fall asleep sprawled on the floor beside him, he regrets that he can't carry them to bed like he once could, even without wounds he would struggle to do so, they've grown up. So instead he opts to light up his cigarette again, humming the songs his soldiers do, yearning to be in the air with his boys, fighting off the attacks that attempt to make him submissive, but act only to make him more furious. He may be alone right now, fighting, but he will die before he gives up. If Rome couldn't tame him then the Nazi's don't have a chance.  
He laughs in the half dark of the room.

Well I couldn't get this storyline out of my head, there's so many aspects I want to look at. And the positive response gave me that final push of motivation so thanks for everyone who read and commented :D

Aspects of Fruk. and USUK/CanUk if your desperate for it :) tilt your head. FACE Family again.

Warnings for Gore again.

Notes -  
-sending supplies to England - America lent the British supplies to help with rebuilding etc.  
- Churchill staying with Matthew - I think Matthews the kind to do his best and having Churchill there is like gripping to hope for Arthurs return :) I was going to write Churchill in but I wouldn't do him justice, he's a legend.  
- In England its considered rude to open someone else s front door or answer there phone in someone else s house without their hosts permission.  
- Arthurs still going to be jumpy, he's just escaped after all. But an animal cornered is much more dangerous.  
- Arthurs going to beat up, captured soldiers where not exactly treated nicely to say the least, that and the damage from bombs and sheer amount of deaths.  
- 'showing of spoils of war' - it would make sense that Germany show off having England, I believe there was a saying 'give me a British Tommy and I will rule the world', I've heard it from my Granddad but can't remember who it's originally said by.  
- Frances boss - at the time was trying to turn France into something that conformed to Germany s views, Vichy France.  
- I know it seems weird Arthur still denying bandages but resources like that would have been limited, Iggy wouldn t want to waste them when he could do without, Nations being basically immortal and whatnot.  
- Arthur wouldn t want colonies, former or otherwise, to see the burdens he has. With such a long and bloody history there s bound to be so many scars.  
- Pride wouldn t have him sharing what happened while he was held prisoner - The swastika on his side, there s no historical reference with this, Britain was always free of German rule, although Hitler had already decided what he wanted to stay up, such as Blackpool for his entertainment and Oxfordshire for his capital as he was educated there (I think).  
- Lots of countries have tried to become 'one' with England, France and Rome to name two.  
- 'you used to be so big' - I really couldn t help myself I had to use this line.  
- Arthur wouldn t leave his people, enough said.  
-France, Poland, Netherlands and others had governments in exile based in London.  
- There was a time that only Britain was fighting Germany, China was busy fighting Japan and others either hadn t joined or where already inhabited.  
- '...Britannia rule the waves, Britain's never never never shall be slaves' - a actual line from Rule Britannia.  
- Churchill once said the British people are strong people who like being told how bad it really is, I don t know the proper quote for this unfortunately.  
- Secrets from the younger nations - I think there would be an agreement to keep some aspects from them unless it was important, they'd probably know the history but not the nations experience. like they'd know that Jeanne of Arc was burnt but not know the implications it had on France etc, if that makes sense.  
-Rome s big empire tore him apart and he died, so says the series.  
-Arthur is scary beneath his gentlemanly fa ade, as are most of the nations, but I can imagine Iggy to be rather bat shit insane, he would want revenge, to kill.

Right Long Note, sorry about that!  
This isn t historically accurate and notes may be inaccurate, they are from the top of my head, Just so you know~

Disclaimed - Hetalia Thanks For Reading~ 


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